


Stuck In A Lift - Mitchell/Rem Dogg - Bad Education

by CurlyCarla



Category: Bad Education (UK TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlyCarla/pseuds/CurlyCarla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell and Remmie get stuck in a lift...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck In A Lift - Mitchell/Rem Dogg - Bad Education

Rem Dogg didn’t know what his parents were thinking. What advantage is there for a kid in a wheelchair to live in a tower block? Not to mention the halls always smelled of piss.

Luckily, Mitchell didn’t seem to mind. He regularly came round to play Xbox, or whatever else took their fancy. Dropping water balloons out of the window was a particular favourite.

Today was one such day; they got into the lift, laughing about some joke at Joe’s expense, and Rem Dogg pressed the button for his floor. The lift began to move, but suddenly it juddered, and ground to a halt. They both looked at each other, eyes wide, as above them, the light flickered and cut out, plunging them in darkness.

“Uh, Remmie?”

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck do we do now?”

... ... ...

Half an hour later, with all buttons thoroughly pressed, the boys had given up. Mitchell was hunched on the floor next to Rem Dogg’s chair, his phone acting as a torch in the centre of the lift. Remmie was spinning his hat on one finger, dropping it occasionally. Mitchell would wordlessly hand it back, and the spinning would continue.

Mitchell’s thoughts were racing.

How long will we be in here?

What if my phone battery runs out?

And, the most recurring:

Oh my God I’m trapped in a lift with Remmie holy FUCK what if I say something stupid, what if I do something stupid, what if he doesn’t want to be my friend any more, oh God why do I deserve this??  
Maybe I should try to make conversation or something...

“Uh, got any signal yet?” Mitchell tried. They had been trying to get signal from about 10 minutes into this ordeal.

“I can barely get signal from my room, let alone this coffin.” Rem Dogg’s voice sounded rough, like he was gritting his teeth, his eyes firmly focused on the glowing, useless, buttons in front of them.

“Man, you okay?” Mitchell looked at him, concerned.

“I just... I really don’t like... Small spaces. They get to me.” As he spoke, his fingers tightened around the wheels of his chair.

“Ah. Well, don’t worry, we’ll be out soon.” Mitchell tried to reassure him, but he could tell mid sentence it wasn’t helping.

“How soon? Before we need to piss? Before I start truly panicking? Before we need to go to school tomorrow?” Rem Dogg’s voice got higher as he spoke, giving away that he was close to breaking down.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t need to go.” Mitchell smiled slightly, gauging Remmie’s reaction.

“... Me neither.”

“Well, there you go. We’re okay at the moment. We can just sit here for a bit, and stay calm, and wait for someone to notice the lift isn’t working. It won’t take long, loads of people live here.” Mitchell tried reasoning with him, and he could see that his breathing was getting calmer.

“I guess.” 

“Exactly. Tell you what, we’ll play a game.” Mitchell suggested, thinking quickly. 

Rem Dogg scoffed, glancing at him “Okay, sure. Let’s play a game.”

“Okay, so what do you want to play?”

“Umm. I don’t know man, anything distracting.”

“That’s the plan. Well, I do have an idea,”   
Mitchell, Mitchell what are you doing, abort abort mission!   
“But you probably wouldn’t do it.” He finished lamely, mentally punching himself in the face.

“Well, if you’re suggesting Gay Chicken-” Rem Dogg started off with a joking voice, but he stopped when he saw Mitchell blush and look away. “Oh.”

Mitchell started to wonder how much force it would take for him to head butt himself out of the lift.

“...I’m down for that. If that’s what you were suggesting. That’s what I was about to say, I mean. It would um... Keep my mind off things.” He laughed nervously, fiddling with his hat. “Plus I bet I would fucking own you at it.” He added, grinning.

Mitchell laughed, his blush intensifying ever so slightly. “Please. Challenge accepted.”

“Come on then.” Grinned Rem Dogg, putting his cap back on.

Mitchell moved so he was on his knees in front of Remmie’s chair, hands on Remmie’s knees, their eyes level. Rem Dogg winked at him, before wheeling backwards, causing Mitchell’s face to end up between his knees. 

“Bitch.” Mitchell muttered, steadying himself again.

“You just need to up your game Mitchie.” Rem Dogg smirked.

“Don’t call me Mitchie.” 

“Maybe you should shut me up then.” Rem Dogg raised an eyebrow, making an obvious challenge.

Mitchell steeled himself, standing up. He put his hands on the handlebars, and kneeled in the spaces by Remmie’s legs, effectively straddling him. 

“Oh, finally. Something interesting. Don’t feel like you should stop, Mitchie.”

Mitchell silently thanked God for everything that was happening, and for the fact that this shitty lift broke down. He also thanked him for the fact that Rem Dogg had undone his shirt a few buttons on the way back from school, exposing the gentle curve of his shoulders and the ridge of his collarbones. Fuck, the boy was beautiful. 

Looking down at Rem Dogg, he could see that he was trying to play it cool. But his breathing was getting quicker again, giving it away.

To fucking Hell with it, I’m not getting this opportunity again.

Mitchell lowered his head to the crook of Rem Dogg’s neck, pressing small kisses to the warm skin. Rem Dogg responded by wrapping his arms around Mitchell’s hips, pulling him closer. Mitchell moved one of his hands from the arm of the chair to gently cup Remmie’s jaw, fingers massaging his hair line. 

“I guess-” Rem Dogg gasped as Mitchell nibbled on his ear lobe “We’re definitely not chicken.”

“Challenge completed?” Mitchell whispered into Remmie’s ear, his tongue tracing the shell of his ear.

“O-Oh yeah.” Rem Dogg stuttered as Mitchell returned to his neck, leaving a red love bite.

Mitchell sat up, admiring his work. A flustered, red faced Rem Dogg breathed hard beneath him, his hands still holding his hips. Despite all that he had done so far, he still felt nervous about bending down and capturing Remmie’s lips in a somewhat sweet kiss. Mitchell could feel Remmie’s warm breath puffing over his face as he deepened the kiss, placing both of his hands on the back of Rem Dogg’s head, running them through his hair. He felt Rem Dogg squeeze his bum, and he smiled into the kiss, and quickly made the kiss more frantic. 

One of Rem Dogg’s hands slid from his hip to his shoulder, fingers tracing the softly defined muscle. They were rudely interrupted by Mitchell’s phone text alert sounding.   
Mitchell broke away. “We’ve got signal!” he gasped.

Rem Dogg looked him dead in the eye, his pupils blown wide, face red, lips bruised.

“Fuck the signal.”


End file.
